Page 24 of Pregnant and Stolen by the Tycoon

She snorted. ‘Why else?’

‘Because you found our night as stimulating as I did, perhaps? I was there, remember. You were insatiable,bonita. Breathtakingly so.’ One hand rose from where it’d been resting on his hard-packed belly to his lips, his fingers tracing over his lower lip.

As if reliving their kiss.

Heat swelled and pulsed between her thighs as she watched, unwillingly mesmerised as his finger moved back and forth over his velvet-smooth lower lip.

Whatever pithy answer she’d tried to conjure up withered under the force of sensation pummelling her and, in its place, a traitorous moan started to rise. Genie swallowed quickly, dragging her gaze away to notice that they’d levelled off.

She was further saved from answering when the attendant returned with a crystal-cut glass and a carafe of water.

Just for something to do, Genie took the drink, murmuring her thanks before raising to sip, keenly aware of Seve watching her every move.

She drained the glass, then, that vexing compulsion striking again, she glanced at him. To find him watching her with unabashed satisfaction.

‘What?’ she barked, the sensation that she’d done exactly as he’d wanted swirling through her.

He didn’t respond immediately. His gaze went to the window, then the moment a muted ping sounded in the cabin, he rose and held out his hand.

‘Come with me.’

She remained seated. ‘Not a chance in hell, Mr Valente.’

He dropped his hand, and she breathed a sigh of relief. Only to have it snatched away when he stepped close and dropped into a smooth squat before her.

Standing tall, he’d been formidable, a pillar of masculinity that drew unfair attention to him.

Crouched before her, in a diminishing position that didn’t diminish this man even one iota, he made her want to do the unthinkable. To reach out and cup that marble-hard jaw. To experience the heat and power of him. Chafe her skin against the delicious stubble springing to life over his vibrant olive skin.

Before their meeting nine weeks ago, she’d had minimal human contact. Went out of her way to avoid it unless strictly necessary.

Seve Valente had delivered a feast on which she had gorged until her every sense was saturated. After which she had gone back to hungering.

Now, like an addict, she was desperate to feel again. He’d opened her eyes and her senses to a world she couldn’t sever herself from. With each moment in his presence, it grew impossible.

His words slammed into her memory.

Screw logic. Feel. Justfeel.

‘Let’s not prolong this any longer, Genie,’ he said with heavy finality.

Cold reality rushed in. While she’d been lost in their torrid night together, he’d leaned in closer, his gaze devouring her once more. His hands were positioned on either side of her hips without touching, and, that absurdly, it made her yearn for contact all that much more.

He’skidnappingyou.

The forceful reminder brought welcome clarity of thought. As much as she wanted to refuse, she knew he was formidable. Seve wasn’t about to let this go until he had her cooperation.

She could protest all she wanted, but the only way she’d rid herself of him was to bend a little while she was forced on this flight with him.

Once they landed however...

‘Fine,’ she said, thankful when her voice emerged even, betraying nothing of what she’d been feeling for the last few minutes.

Just as quickly, he disengaged her seat belt and rose. This time he didn’t hold out his hand to her, the absence of which she felt distinctly as she stood and followed him at a slower place to the back of the plane.

When she realised he was entering a sleeping cabin, she froze in the doorway.

Did he think...? Surely he wasn’t that deluded?

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